


Jumped

by Jennsepticeye (orphan_account)



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Other, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 18:34:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17854934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Jennsepticeye
Summary: Some of Diablo's old crew decide you jump you. He comes to your rescue





	Jumped

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting all my fics from Tumblr here, and then orphaning them and deleting my blog. I don't want them to be forgotten for those who enjoyed them, so I'm posting them here.
> 
> If you want to track my down on tumblr now, my user name is @jennsepticeye
> 
> this was originally three parts and I decided to give up before posting the third. They end alright on their own.

You ran full speed down the street, lungs burning as you pushed yourself harder, faster. You had ditched the eye covered “zombies” a few minutes ago but you kept running just in case. Without looking where you were going you turned into an alley, expecting it to be abandoned like the rest of the city. It was not. You ran smack into someone, falling flat on your ass on the chilled, wet gravel. You yelped and looked up at the person you ran into, or people. It was a group of men, teardrop tattoos, matching blue Letterman jackets and low hung jeans told you exactly what kind of people they were. Too late though, when you tried to scramble away one of the men grabbed you roughly, pulling you towards him and his assailants.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go!” You yelled, squirming and kicking so much that another man had to help force you to the ground.

“This one’s got a mouth…” one sneered. “No Bueno, shut her up.”

Someone put a disgusting, cold, clammy hand over your mouth and you did the only thing you could think of. You bit him. Hard. Your mouth was filled with his blood and he let out a very un manly cry, drawing back. You spit out the red liquid and squeezed your eyes shut as his hand came towards your face, slapping you harshly. Somebody ripped your shirt open, pulling the fabric off of your torso and stuffing it in your mouth as a makeshift gag. Tears dripped out of your closed eyes as the gravel dug into your now bare back. You could feel the stones shredding your skin. Your pants were ripped down your legs, immobilizing you and you screamed into your gag. Greedy disgusting hands violated your skin, unforgiving fingers bruised you. Just as those sickening appendages reached the waistband of your panties, someone new spoke up.

“There something wrong here homies?” A new voice asked, gravely and Hispanic sounding.

“Diablo, man? Welcome back esé.” The digits on your hips retreated as he stood. You kept your eyes screwed shut, weeping quietly into your shirt.

“Come on then, join the fun boss.” Another said, he ran a hand over your breast and cheek and you flinched away.

“Slim, I thought you better than this man. You know we ain’t like this.” ‘Diablo’ said. “Get out of here cabrón.”

“And if we decide we wanna stay? Finish what we started?”

“Yeah last I checked there was… Uno, deux, tres… seven of us and one of you.” A new choice challenged

You let your eyes open, stinging and red rimmed. Diablo was quite a bit smaller than Slim but he didn’t seem put off by the discrepancy, which made sense when flames engulfed his closed fists, lighting up the alley with orange shadows. Slim flinched away noticeably. “I ain’t gonna explain what you already know, Guey. Get lost.”

Slim scoffed “Once a stiff, always a stiff.” Nevertheless he obeyed. As if on cue the rest of the men let go of you leaving you to spit out your gag and curl into in a ball. You barely even noticed as Diablo helped you up, whimpering as he pulled up your pants with warm, careful hands. Your shirt was clearly done for, soaked and torn, Diablo realized this and you felt him drape his jacket over your shoulders, the same ones as Slim and his perverse goons were wearing. You wanted to shove it off and scream but you were weak and it was really warm and it was obvious this man meant you no harm. So instead you let him help you into the sleeves while you studied the ground mutely. You flinched when the fabric brushed over the open wounds on your back and he seemed to be gentler after.

“You can’t stick around too long chica, it ain’t safe.” He said calmly.

You nodded, looking up at man who had saved you. He was more inked than any of the others, skull like features over his face and swirling patterns that disappeared below his collar. “T-Thank you…” You stuttered, still sobbing “Bless y-you…”

“I ain’t blessed chica. Now get goin’ an’ stay safe.”

You nodded again, pulling the jacket close. It smelled like smoke and cinnamon. “Thank you… D-Diablo.”

\----------------------------------

“Yo esé, up and at ‘em! You got a visitor!” Griggs shouted as you followed him out into the tarmac like area, a single rusty tank on the cement.

“Wait, this is where you keep him?” You asked incredulously.

“Yeah, this is where we keep him.” He replied. “Watch the kicks sweetheart.” With a push of a lever and a thundering rush of water Diablo was flooded out onto the pavement at your feet.

“Hey there stranger.” You said, watching concerned as he coughed up water onto the ground.

“What are you doing here chica?” He asked, looking up at you.

“Visiting, and by the way, my name is Y/N.”

“How are you even here?”

You shrugged, sitting down as he sat up across from you. “I have a doctor’s note. My shrink says I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Nightmares, flashbacks, panics, the whole nine. She told me some shrinky thing about how seeing you might help. Even with her help it took a while to pull the right strings though.” You spaced out a bit as you rambled.

Diablo didn’t say anything so you continued.

“Also I kind of stole your jacket so…” You pulled the sleeves of said article down so just your fingertips showed. It no longer smelled like cinnamon and smoke, as it had when he had given it to you and you had managed to get the blood stains out.

“It’s yours.” He said simply.

“Thanks…” You looked over at him. “Not just for the super cool jacket…I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did… So thanks…”

“Don’t mention it.”

You chuckled. “I have to. Doctor’s orders… I may be out of a job and haphephobic but I’m alive and not, for lack of a better word, violated. All thanks to you.”

“Lo siento… I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“Why?”

Those where my people, my problem. They ain’t the same as I left them.”

“You were there when it mattered.” You offered “At least to me.”

He nodded absentmindedly.

You took a deep breath, looking around at the guards instead of at him. “Do you think they’ll shoot me if I try to hug you?”

“You sure you want to?” Diablo looked at you for approval.

If you were honest with yourself, no. You were scared, terrified. In the months since the accident, as you had begun to refer to it, you were a wreck. A simple handshake sent you into hysterics at the memory of those clammy hands, holding you down, making you nothing but helpless. You hadn’t had a normal instance of human contact in five months for fear of that very thing happening. Nevertheless you were committed to this, committed to getting better. So you nodded, stretching out your arms and pulling him close.

And…

And there was nothing, no filthy fingers ruining your skin, no phantom pains in your wrists and ankles. It was just a, soaking wet, kind of cold, hug. You let out a breath and relaxed against him, immeasurably relieved. Hesitantly he reciprocated the embrace, looping his arms around your back, his hands warm and comforting. You stayed like that for an awkwardly long time, relishing in the simplicity of human interaction. When you pulled away you were crying but your tears were those of elation.

“Thanks for that…” you giggled.

Diablo raised an eyebrow at you, clearly confused.

“I’m okay, I promise. It’s just… you’re the first p-person I’ve touched in months. You’re a good man Diablo.”

“No I ain’t Chica.”

“Deny it all you want,” You said, standing up and hopelessly brushing your hands over the soaked bottoms of your jeans. “But it’s still true. I’ll see you next week, okay?

“What is the point of this Waller?” Flag asked, looking at the prison yard footage. “She’s just a civ.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Colonel. Apparently he saved her life and in case you forget, that’s the first person he’s had any sort of emotional attachment to since he murdered his family. Aside from the Task Force, of course.” She replied calmly, not turning away from the screen to look at him. “You’ll see it soon enough.”

“You can’t be serious! A civilian?” He questioned, alarmed.’

“Sacrifices may have to be made Flag, you of all people should know that. She hasn’t had a job for months, she’s alone. Face it, she’s only important to us here.”

“You really are as crazy as they say.”


End file.
